"You are awake, right?"
The person on the bed still looked like she was in deep sleep and showed no reaction.
Yan Jiang's throat worked up, as he sniffed hard to stop his tears and mucus. Sitting down on the bed, Yan Jiang gazed at Song Fei's lovely face. "Song Fei, when you left my house this morning, a reporter took a photo of you."
After Yan Jiang said this, he saw Song Fei's lashes quiver. Seeing this, Yan Jiang suddenly became agitated. He grabbed Song Fei's hand and said hoarsely, "It's really you. You're awake, right, Song Fei?"
Song Fei couldn't pretend anymore. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a handsome face that looked like it was about to cry. Song Fei was in a daze. Eight years had passed and that coward didn't get much bolder. Instead, he's even more weepy.
"What are you crying for?" Song Fei scoffed in disdain. "You look so ugly when you cry."
